ooc; I owe like a gazillion of them to Alyssa, one to Hannah and the other one to Auruo-mun, as well as a couple of asks. But it feels nice getting back into the swing of things on here again! So! if anyone wants to plot or want me to make them a starter, feel free to like this post and I’ll invade your ask box. B)
Night Patrol; it’s both a blessing, and a pain in the ass. Yet, it’s more of a moment to simply bask in the silence and keep himself grounded. Tonight, he feels his thoughts begin to float and his consciousness begin to doze. Old memories, past experiences…previous lives. It jumbles up in his head and he feels a familiar voice pull him back to earth. Silently, he perks up, mercury hues resting on her frame as she hands him a tea cup. Nodding his thanks, he takes it, taking a slow sip from it.
“Petra.” he feels the warmth from the cup begin to fill his fingertips; it’s soothing. A question comes to mind. “Why’re you still awake?”
"The same could be asked of you, but I think we know why."
She teases, lightly, as she comes to join him, a cup of her own in hand. She was taken off of patrol tonight; a task that she didn’t like doing but was prepared for it, when he took her place. She still didn’t know why he did that, but Petra determined that two people up was better than one.
"Couldn’t sleep," she answers after a few minutes, taking a sip before speaking again. "I was all prepared for patrol, and I guess my mind had other plans.
— And she’s awoken with a scream, the result of a nightmare that
had decided to plague her dreams. She hadn’t been sleeping well
lately; the dark circles were present on her visage, and she was paler.
She knew that it she needed to take better care of herself and, if she
wasn’t careful, people might try to make her sty back.
Trembling, she runs her hands through her hair, taking deep breaths to
calm her heart, which was beating rapidly like a drum. Hopefully, she
didn’t wake up anyone. Heaven knows they all lacked sleep as it was.
She feels fingers trace along scars on her shoulder, where she almost flinches. Unsure of who exactly was the culprit, she finds herself looking straight to the man whom she’s deemed as a brother to her. Never before had he inquired about her scars, let alone touch them. It was a feeling that both put her outside her comfort zone but, at the same time, it proved opportunity for a bonding moment between the two. Besides, this scar had a story that she had never told anyone else, so he would be the first to know the origin behind it.
”If you’re wondering where I got that from, there’s a long story behind it, if you’re willing to listen to it.”
Calmly puts out his cigarette, and takes a long sip of his coffee. At least he finally managed to get his paperwork done. Quietly, he glances up at Petra, noticing the near empty cup in front of her. “Do you want a refill…?”
Pulled away from her train of thought, she looks up from the papers to look up at him. For once, he was finished before she was, something that he never finished until much later when she was asleep. Glancing at her cup, she reaches for it before holding it out to him. “If you don’t mind. You finished early tonight, sir.”
It felt like his lungs were collapsing, his body caving and being ripped limb from limb when he finally wakes up. Titans still invade his dreams, every nook and cranny of his thoughts with the blood and torn limbs of the fallen. Yet, every time he wakes up, he sees her. Without fail, Petra always coaxes him back into reality. Even now, he feels her fingertips brush his hair out of his eyes and cup his cheeks, her voice soft and soothing as he tries to regain his breath.
“…t-thank you.” he whispers in reply, resting his head against her shoulder.
Eventually, his breathing stabilizes, no longer in the fit of sleep he was. She can’t help but let out a quiet sigh of relief as he lays on his shoulder. It was routine for them; either he would be the one that had nightmares, or vice versa. She never likes to admit it, but she was prone to them despite the tough exterior she puts out when it came to handling things. Still, she soothes him, the whisper in her ear oddly calming as she continues to soothe him. Gentle fingers find themselves threading through dark locks, holding onto him.
”No need to thank me,” she whispers back, eventually sitting so that, in a way, she was cradling him. Unorthodox for the both of them, but he needed it.
They needed it.
A cigarette and a cup of coffee in the evenings seem to be developing into a daily habit. His nerves seem somewhat apathetic, while his lungs might not agree.
A habit that she’s used to, but doesn’t necessarily agree with, she eventually finds herself upon the couch across from him, reports in hand while she too sips from her cup.